“Nothing wrong with plain ol’ Darcy,” Becky said.
Once Becky left, I went down the hall to Mama and Papa’s bedroom. I wanted to try on the jewelry with the dress, and frankly, I liked the way the dress made me look and feel, so I wasn’t in a hurry to take it off and hang it up.
Mama’s bedroom door was ajar. Without thinking, I pushed it open and swept inside, saying, “Mama, can I try on the jewelry—” That was as far as I got.
Mama was dressing. Her slacks were on, but her upper body was uncovered. She ducked down and covered herself with her arms, half turning to shield her nakedness.
“I’m so sorry!” I cried. “I—I didn’t mean to burst in on you.” I had not seen my mother unclothed since I was a small child. I jumped back into the hall.
Mama’s voice stopped me. “Darcy, it’s all right. Please come in.”
My heart pounded and my cheeks burned. Keeping my gaze downward, I reentered the room.
“I think you should see this, Darcy.” Her voice was soft and soothing, much as it had been when I was younger and bruised by a mishap.
My mother had turned to face me from across the room. I didn’t want to look, but I did. Her nude upper body was illuminated by lamplight, as the sun had gone down. I glanced at her one perfect breast, then stared at the spot where her other breast had been. In its place was a long diagonal scar cutting across the landscape of her body, marring the flesh like jagged glass. Surgeons had cut off this womanly part of her and left a bright red scar that circled clear under her arm. I could barely stand to look at it, yet neither could I tear my gaze away.
I don’t know how long I stood staring, but eventually she slipped on a blouse and came over to me. She ran her thumb under my eyes and down my cheeks. “Don’t cry, honey,” she said.
Until that moment, I hadn’t known I was crying. “What have they done to you, Mama?”
“They have tried to save my life,” she answered. “It is only a body part, Darcy. It’s no different than a person losing an arm. Or an appendix. There is no shame in it. I wear a special bra that fills me out and makes me appear normal to all the world. No one can tell what’s missing when I’m dressed.”
I felt the fabric of the velvet dress tight across my chest and I shuddered. At that moment, I was glad my breasts were small and inconsequential. At that moment, I wanted them to go away altogether. I wanted to be as flat as a child and free of them.
My mother read my mind. She lifted my chin and peered into my eyes, her gaze steady and strong. “Do not wish away your womanhood, Darcy Rebecca. Someday, when your time comes, you will revel in your femininity. Being a woman is a most wonderful gift from God. Trust me on this.”
I nodded, but my chin was trembling. My mother held me and I felt the hollow place on her chest press against me while I wept.
Fourteen
Barry was granted a weeklong furlough so that he could marry Adel and have a short honeymoon, a flight to New York to visit his family. The wedding, however, took on a life of its own and the guest list grew like dandelions in spring grass. The details were swallowing us whole, so I made a giant chart to keep track of the plans for the weeks before and after the wedding. I hung it in the kitchen for everybody to see.
Friday: Darcy out of school for Christmas break. Adel’s last day of work at the bank.
Saturday: Call Carole for instructions. Follow her instructions.
Sunday: 11:00 A.M.—Church. Call Carole/decorating party at fellowship hall (no teen group meeting).
Monday: Barry rents car and picks up his parents at the airport.
Tuesday: Barry and parents drive to Conners. NOTE:
Christmas Eve!!! Dinner for all of us at our house (Carole cooks).
7:00 P.M.—Church candlelight service.
9:00 P.M.—Open Christmas presents.
Wednesday: CHRISTMAS DAY!!!!! WEDDING DAY!!!!
8:00–1:00 P.M.—Eat, bathe, fuss with hair, eat,
fuss with makeup, just plain fuss with dresses, flowers, all other stuff.
2:00 P.M.—The Wedding!!!
3:00–4:30 P.M.—The Reception.
5:00 P.M.—Return to house, Barry packs car, say
goodbye to Adel and Barry and his family.
7:50 P.M.—The newly reorganized Sorenson clan
flies to New York.
Quinlin clan crashes!
Monday—(December 30): Adel and Barry back from honeymoon.
2:00 P.M.—Adel and Barry arrive in Conners to
pack Adel’s belongings and return to army base (where they will live happily ever after and until Barry gets sent to parts as yet unknown).
Monday—(January 6, 1975): School starts.
Chart subject to change without notice.
Signed: Darcy Quinlin, creative director and resident sister to the bride
We probably couldn’t have managed if it hadn’t been for Carole and Mama’s network of friends. Carole was Mama’s right hand, which was absolutely necessary, because the closer Adel got to her big day, the more she ceased to function as a productive part of the team. “Mama!” she’d wail. “A Christmas wedding—what was I thinking? Why didn’t you stop me?”
And Mama would look up from whatever she was doing and say, “Wild horses couldn’t have stopped you, Adel. Now go help Carole.”
By Christmas Eve, things were running pretty smoothly. We did a quick rehearsal in the afternoon, then ate supper with Barry’s folks, whom I liked but could hardly understand due to their thick New York accents. We spent a lot of time saying “Pardon me” and “Could you say again?” and “Sorry, didn’t catch your meaning.” After dinner, we attended church and came home for dessert and coffee, and then Barry drove his folks to the parsonage to stay with Jim and Carole for the night because there were no motels in Conners and only a boardinghouse where passersthrough stayed, which Mama didn’t consider “fit.” Barry returned to the house because he was staying in my room as he had at Thanksgiving, and, together, we opened Christmas presents.
I had known it would be a small Christmas, what with the wedding and all, so I was totally surprised when Mama and Papa gave me exactly what I had wanted—a new portable stereo record player, the kind with a tape deck in it. I’d used Adel’s old player for years and it was wearing out.
My surprise showed because Adel said, “Why, Darcy, were you afraid Santa might pass you by?”
“Actually, I was afraid Santa would take one peek through the window and go away.”
The living room was stacked high with gifts. Not only because it was Christmas, but also because people were sending wedding presents. Papa had set up a table for the wedding loot—all unopened because Adel had been waiting for Barry to arrive—and the table was heaped and overflowing onto the floor. “It’ll take you a month to open all of them,” I said, gesturing at the table.
“Opening presents wasn’t on the kitchen chart,” Barry said with a straight face. “We’ll have to do it when we get back from our honeymoon.”
“What’s your apartment like?” Mama asked.
“It’s near the base where plenty of military couples rent,” Barry answered. “We’ll take a furnished place until we know where the army’s going to send me. I should get my orders soon.”
“In the meantime, we’ll leave our new things here,” Adel added. “Once we know where we’re going, the army will ship it for us.”
The room went quiet as the magnitude of what was happening pressed against us. Adel was leaving home and perhaps going very far away. Like seeds in the wind, our family was being scattered.
Papa broke the mood when he bent down and retrieved a slim box from under the tree. “I believe this has your name on it, Mrs. Quinlin.”
“For me?” Mama smiled, delighted.
“My one and only,” Papa said.
She opened the box and drew out a diamond bracelet that made the rest of us gawk. It sparkled in the light from the tree. “Oh, my,” Mama whispered. “It’s stunning.” Sh
e kissed Papa and hugged him. “Graham, you shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, I should have.” He fastened the bracelet around her wrist. “This is what you have to look forward to, Barry. Spending half a year’s salary just to see your beloved’s face light up.”
“Seems worth every penny,” Barry said, squeezing Adel’s hand.
Later, when it appeared that everything had been opened and we were starting upstairs, Barry handed me one last box. “This is specially for you, Darcy. It’s not exactly a Christmas present, but it’s something I want you to have.”
Mystified, I opened it and pulled out a scrapbook, filled with writing and photographs of soldiers. “Who are they?”
“This is my brother’s. I had Mom bring it. It’s pictures from his tour of duty in Vietnam.”
My breath caught. “Really?”
“I thought you could use it for that government project you’re doing. You can look it over later. These photos tell a story you might not have gotten through your other research.”
“Won’t he miss it?”
“Not now. I’ll get it back from you once school’s out. Take care of it, okay?”
“With my life,” I declared. “Thank you, Barry. Thank you so much.”
His expression was one of sadness. “Someday, maybe these veterans will be honored the way they should have been when they came home, instead of being spit on. Who knows? Maybe someday we’ll even build a memorial to them.”
I hugged the book to my chest and hurried up the stairs. From the back of the hallway, I saw a light coming from my parents’ bedroom and decided I’d be the first to say merry Christmas, for by now it was past midnight. The door was ajar, but before I could knock, I heard Papa’s voice sounding imploring and respectful. I knew at once that he was praying. Usually, he prayed aloud at church meetings, or at the table before meals. Once, when I’d been sick as a child, he’d knelt by my bed and prayed for me, and the very next morning I woke up fever free. Unable to stop myself, I peeked around the doorjamb.
Papa was on his knees beside the bed where Mama lay. His head was bowed and his hands were clasped around hers. Mama’s eyes were closed. Lamplight bathed them both in a shimmer of gold. Papa was saying, “And bless Adel’s wedding day, dear Lord. Let her and Barry have a long and fruitful marriage. And one more thing I ask, Heavenly Father . . . in the name of Jesus, let my beloved wife have a happy and pain-free day.”
I didn’t want to break the spell, so I backed quietly away from the door. I returned to Adel’s room down the hall, whispering my papa’s prayer with every step, trying to hold back my tears.
Christmas day dawned bright and sunny, but bitter cold. Carole arrived at the house real early, and the first thing she did was make Papa and Barry leave. Something about the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony, which didn’t make much sense to me. They grabbed up their wedding clothes and headed to the parsonage to have breakfast with Barry’s folks.
Sandy arrived, and she and Adel commenced to scurrying around like Chicken Little. Carole told Mama to stay in bed awhile longer, but she wouldn’t. “I want to help,” Mama said. “I feel just fine.” So Carole sat her down to make floral arrangements for the reception tables from roses and white poinsettias sent over by the florist.
Around noon, Adel sat me down and started applying makeup while Sandy did my hair. Every few minutes, Adel would say, “Stop squirming, Darcy, or you’ll look like a clown. I can’t hit a moving target.”
At some point we were all ready. Papa came home with Simon Ledbetter, the photographer, who took all kinds of photographs of us. He posed us on the stairs, Adel at the foot, holding her bouquet, with her long train cascading onto the floor, then me one step up, and Mama another step higher. Mama was dressed in pale blue wool, a matching turban wrapped around her head and a sparkly pin set in it. She wore her new diamond bracelet too. Papa said, “Three of the best-looking women in all of Georgia. And they’re all mine— at least for another hour.”
Somehow, we all got to the church. Once there, I almost fainted over the size of the crowd. “What happened to your ‘little wedding’?” I asked Adel as we peeked through the curtain in the back of the church.
She looked bewildered. “I really don’t know.”
My heart gave a jump when I saw Jason sitting alone in one of the pews. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might come. He was dressed in a suit and looked good enough to make my knees go weak. I silently prayed that I wouldn’t trip and make a fool of myself preceding Adel up the aisle.
The church had never looked prettier. Red and white poinsettias adorned the altar area along with a huge Christmas tree off to the side, wreaths at the end of each pew and two white candelabras ablaze with candles. By the time the wedding music started, I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. “Don’t spoil my wedding,” Adel hissed in my ear, ever sympathetic to me.
“Go on, honey,” Papa urged more kindly. “We’ll be right behind you.”
I walked slowly down the aisle, looking straight ahead, my hands so cold I couldn’t feel them and my knees knocking. I took my place at the front of the church and watched Sandy, then Adel and Papa, come up the aisle. I had to admit Adel was beautiful, and the look on Barry’s face spoke of pure love. Once Papa handed Adel over, he went to sit with Mama. I could see that she was crying. I listened to Adel and Barry say their vows, and before I knew it, the ceremony was over and I was at the back of the church, hugging and congratulating Barry and Adel, and the guests were pouring out the doors.
I missed Becky Sue. I wanted a friend, but only adults swarmed around me. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to face Jason. “You look outstanding,” he said.
I felt my face grow warm. “Thank you. I didn’t know you were coming. But I’m glad you did.”
He said, “Your mother told Carole I should come. So I did.”
Someone called me to come back up front for proper photographs.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
I could have floated into the picture-taking session. I hoped people would take the smile on my face to mean that I was happy for my sister, which I was, of course. But I was happy for myself also. Not only had the wedding gone perfectly, but Jason had shown up and told me I looked “outstanding.” I marveled at how just a simple word from the right person could make me feel like I was glowing from the inside out and walking on clouds at the same time.
Fifteen
Jason didn’t stay at the reception long. I didn’t blame him because it was dull as dishwater, but it made me mad because he’d cut out when I’d been looking forward to hanging out with him. I stayed in the fellowship hall because it was required, but just as soon as Adel and Barry fed each other wedding cake, I put on my coat, hitched up my skirt and started walking home. I realized it was a mistake after two blocks in the high heels dyed to match my dress.
The weather grew colder and a wind kicked up, and although I was freezing, I was stewing inside at the same time. Jason could have stuck around to keep me company instead of running off, but he hadn’t. I told myself I was stupid to care about him, because he’d never care about me. Lost in thought, I stepped off a curb and Jason cut across my path with his motorcycle.
“Climb on,” he said. “Your face is as blue as your dress.”
I teetered between pain and desire. “I’ve never ridden on a cycle. Not sure I know how.”
“Just ease on the back. Keep your legs off the exhaust pipe and put your arms around me.”
It took a few tries for me to balance behind him sitting sidesaddle. I linked my arms around him gingerly, determined not to enjoy being so close to him, but the second he kicked off, my arms tightened and I hung on for dear life. The wind whipped through my carefully prepared hair, and despite my chattering teeth, I felt exhilarated. The ride was over in far too short a time. He pulled up in our driveway, parked the cycle at the side of the house and followed me inside. In the entrance hall, he took both my han
ds in his and rolled them briskly, and soon I could feel warmth creeping into them again. I heard the ticking of the grandfather clock and realized that we were there alone.
His proximity was having quite an effect on me, and I stepped away. “I’ll change clothes.”
“No.” He caught my hand. “Leave the dress on. I like looking at you in it.”
Any anger I’d felt toward him evaporated like water on a hot stove. He likes me in the dress. “All right,” I said.
“But you might want to fix your hair.”
I hurried upstairs and into Adel’s room, where I kicked off the heels and slipped on my comfortable clogs. When I looked in the mirror, I almost gagged. My hair looked as if it had been attacked with an eggbeater. I quickly ripped out the pins and arrangement of curls and brushed out the hair spray. I took some deep breaths and told my reflection, “Steady, Darcy. Slow down and act like you couldn’t care less that Jason is waiting for you downstairs. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”
I found Jason in the living room in front of our Christmas tree.
“Here I am,” I said, stating the obvious.
He checked me out from head to toe, then grinned. “Better.” He walked to the mantel and studied the family pictures set between the evergreen garlands. “Carole says your family has lived in this town for over a hundred years.”
“That’s the truth.” I was glad he’d brought up a topic I knew about. I told him the story about my great-great-grandmother shooting herself a Yankee during the Civil War.
“She killed him?” He seemed impressed.
I jumped in, explaining, “Goodness no. Turned out he was a poor boy cut off from his platoon and foraging for food round the farm. So she felt obliged to nurse him back to health, and when he was well, he felt obliged to marry her— which was just as well, ’cause at the age of twentyfive, Great-great-grandmother was on her way to becoming an old maid. Not that she wasn’t pretty—she was. But because there were no marrying men left around these parts. Most were off fighting or had died in the war.”
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